“And he’s in a foul mood. Things didn’t go so well with their lot.”
Did that mean Isobella’s trip back in time was successful? If he could have, Louis would have fist pumped the air.
“Merde.What does he want him for?”
The American shrugged. “Something to do with some organization. What was it called? The DGSE.”
The Directorate-General for External Security?Putain.Pierre would have his balls if he ended up in the clutches of France’s foreign intelligence agency. Not to mention Maxime. Louis wasn’t keen about the idea of being a science experiment in a lab, either.
“What about ze others?”
“Veilluex wants the twin alive. The others…” The American shrugged. “If we can catch ’em, great. If not, kill ‘em. I’m tired of these shifter fuckers stealin’ our women. A little payback is in order.”
Louis didn’t need to wonder why they needed him and Pierre alive. Science had been using twins for their studies, their experiments for years.
“And zefille?”
“You mean the girl? She goes with them. Some guy Veilleux calls the Doctor wants to witness a turning.”
Fils de pute.Louis had to get out of these silver shackles. Had to warn his brother of the high concentration of wolfsbane in this room. He had to save their mate. For the first time in his life, he regretted his impulsiveness. Wished he was more like his twin. He prayed they weren’t all destined to die in a science lab because of it.
* * * *
Pierre paused at the top of the stairs, straining to hear the muted voices down the hall. Why could he not make out their words? He sniffed the air. Nothing strong or tangible. He checked his wrist cuff. Still in place, the burn of the silver against his skin a constant. But there was wolfsbane here. There had to be. His senses were there, but not as strong as they should be. The Faucherians had increased the quantities. The silver against his skin was doing its job. His wolf wasn’t coming forth uncalled for, but he wasn’t unaffected.
With cautious steps, he made his way down the hall. The closer he got to the room, the greater the effect of the wolfsbane. They must have barrels of the stuff in there. His fear for his twin and his mate urged him to rush forward, but he contained it. He would be of no use to them if he, too, fell victim.
The soft rumble of his brother’s voice filtered through the closed door. He was alive.Thank the fates.Louis grunted, then hissed. Melinda sobbed. They were both alive.Thank fuck.He would never forgive himself if his decision to go after Cordelia had resulted in their deaths.
Behind him, on the stairs, Alois and Elliot approached. He held up his hand, halting them, and pointed to his cuff. They nodded their understanding, poised, waiting. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it. If it was Gabriel, the fucker could wait. If this all ended badly, if he lost his twin and his mate, he’d beat his brother to a bloody pulp.
He eased next to the door, listening. It was a strain, with his senses muted, but he still far surpassed the abilities of any human. Louis and Melinda. And two men—one French, one American—discussing their plan to ambush him. One paced in front of the door. Pierre let his canines slide down.
Stupidconnard.
He raised his weapon, waited until theAmericainwas clear of Louis and Melinda, then fired a short burst at head height through the door. He didn’t miss. The body dropped to the floor with a thud. Shocked silence, and Pierre used his advantage and kicked the door open.
Fuck. No.
A fury he’d never experienced before roared through him at the sight that greeted him. Louis shackled in silver on the floor. Melinda, beside him, on her knees, the Frenchmen’s hand twisted in her hair, holding a pistol to her temple, sobbing, pleading him with her eyes to help them.
No oneput Melinda on her knees but them. Especially not someconnardFaucherian.
“Do it,” his countryman taunted him. “Shift. Only your wolf can save her.”
Pierre smirked. His wolf would’ve liked nothing more than to rip thisfils de pute’sthroat out, but the Faucherian was wrong. Shifting wasn’t the only way to save her. And Pierre was too disciplined to be goaded into making that mistake. Not with all that wolfsbane. He wouldn’t be stepping foot in the room, and he wouldn’t be shifting. All he needed was a clear shot.
Louis lunged, knocking Melinda aside. Pierre fired. The Faucherian’s head flew back, and he dropped, dead before he hit the ground. The Faucherian had made more than one mistake tonight. He and Louis were a team.
He leaned against the door frame. Both his twin and his mate were safe. For a minute, as he’d faced Cordelia, he’d thought he might have lost them both.
Louis crawled over to the deadAmericainby the door, grabbing a set of keys from the man’s pocket. “Nice shooting.” He unlocked the shackles from around his wrists and neck and tossed them across the room. “That is an experience I don’t want to repeat.” The skin on his neck already beginning to heal, he scooped Melinda in his arms and pulled her into the hall, dark hair sprouting along his arms and bones cracking in his legs. “We need to stop doing this,chouqette. No more men pointing guns at you,d’accord?”
Pierre ushered them along the landing, away from the cursed wolfsbane, and Louis’ wolf receded.
“I’m sorry.” Melinda sniffled against Louis’ chest. “I should’ve stayed hidden. I thought they’d be too busy dealing with you to notice me sneaking out. But he caught me. Then he caught you.”
“Running away from us again, were you?Hm?”
